fractal

Sometimes its too early for red lipstick, 10AM had been up for hours...Spent my morning listening to Tom Waits, I wonder if it was too much coffee or not enough sleep or ADD or just fucking boredom...

I want red walls.

Last night I watched things fall from the sky, my back flat against the asphalt. Mostly I saw them out of the corner of my eye, guess I'm blind to the things that are starin me in the face. You crossed my mind from time to time, or maybe just stood still and watched me.

I found all of this on crumpled up torn pages in my bag, scrawled out in my horrid handwriting...'there's someone cooking meat somewhere, it smells sickly and sweet, like too many flowers in one place', like a funeral or a flower shop maybe.

'the smell in the street was that of vinegar and bad sex, the kind you have to remind yourself why you avoid such unpleasantries normally'

today was too hot for mid December, it was unnatural. I don't think I'll ever adjust to palm trees strung up with lights. It just looks ridiculous. I miss winter sometimes, I miss change, having something to look forward to eventually.


this place is like purgatory, but I'd trade innocence for that touch.


fear the pig.